I’m having schnitzel with my friend Massimo for the first time in ages when I notice the couple sitting at the table to our right out of the corner of my eye. Two young people, probably in their mid-twenties. They arrive a few minutes after us, order their food and barely say a word to each other. “Either they’re fascinated by our conversation or they simply have nothing to say to each other,” I think at some point.
I can’t really see the young man without turning my head completely to the side. But I can see the young woman. Every now and then, one of them reaches for their phone. Then the screen goes dark again. Silence. Then another look at the phone. For a moment, I actually consider inviting them into our conversation. And then I stop myself. Who am I to decide whether two other people are happy? Maybe this evening was absolutely perfect for them exactly the way it was.
Whenever we make assumptions like that, we’re ultimately judging other people based on ourselves and the way we would behave. When their table is empty later, I ask Massimo, “Did you notice the couple to your left?” He nods. “They didn’t talk much. Do you think they were listening to us?” We laugh.
And if you’re wondering why I’m telling you this story, let me ask you a different question: When was the last time you spent time with someone without having your phone within reach? “Norman, mine is always on silent.” Great. And where is it? On the table? Next to you? Screen facing up? Screen facing down?
For most of us, our phone has become our most important companion. It plans our routes, knows the opening hours of our favorite store, answers questions, photographs our lives, entertains us and finds almost everything we need on the internet—and quite a few things we definitely don’t need. And apparently, there are still a few old-school people out there who actually use it to make phone calls. Crazy, I know. But there’s one thing this little device is incredibly good at: Getting our attention. And that’s exactly what I found myself thinking about that evening.
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to meet a very special woman. You know her name. She’s known around the world. That beautiful Wednesday evening in Amsterdam, I asked her the same question I’ve been fortunate enough to ask so many people: “What is the most important thing you need to be successful in life?” What happened next has stayed in my mind and my heart to this day. And no—I don’t mean her answer. I mean her attention.
In that moment, this woman was 100 percent present with me. Not a single part of her body gave me the impression that she would rather be somewhere else. She looked at me. She listened to me. She took my question seriously. For those few seconds, it felt as if she and I were the only two people on the planet. Even Anke, who was standing right next to me, seemed to disappear for a moment. The conversation probably lasted 30 seconds. To me, it felt much longer. And that is what stayed with me.
For me, genuine attention is one of the greatest gifts we can give another human being. Not because we have the perfect answer or because we can solve a challenge for them. Simply because, for one moment, we show that person: I see you. I hear you. You matter right now.
And you know what?
That’s exactly why I believe presence is also one of the most underestimated forms of leadership. Your employee knows whether you’re truly listening or already composing your next email in your head. Your sweetheart knows. Your friends know. And your kids definitely know. “Put your phone away at the dinner table.” And as soon as the kids are gone, there you are, sitting with your phone in your hand—in the very “phone-free zone” you created yourself.
Keep this in mind: People can feel whether you’re simply in the same room or whether you’re truly there.
When we started giving more and more of our attention away to this little device isn’t really the important question for me. The more important one is: Am I willing to take it back? It’s in your hands. Quite literally. Because you decide what matters more to you in that moment: the device in your hand or the human being in front of you.
So maybe you could try something very simple this week. When you meet someone who matters to you, leave your phone in the car or at home. Not on silent on the table or face down. Just not there. And then see what happens. Because one day, toward the end of our lives, there probably won’t be any likes, messages or push notifications sitting beside our bed. Hopefully, there will be people. And maybe the quality of those relationships begins with something as simple as deciding to be 100 percent present today.
P.S. Oh, and the woman in Amsterdam. I haven’t told you her name yet. Today, I don’t remember every word she said to me. But I remember exactly how I felt during those 30 seconds: Seen. And maybe that says everything about the power of genuine attention. Thank you for that, dear Michelle Obama.
